


Good Enough

by angelsandbrowncoats



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control, Not Beta Read, Pining, Polyamory, Season 5 Episode 4 spoilers, i think, other characters in smaller roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 16:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: Edward Nygma wants to find out who is controlling him when he sleeps, and he wants to find out what happened to Haven. When he realizes that these goals have more in common than he thought, he isn't sure what to do. Luckily, there are people in his life to help him figure it out.





	Good Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo long story short, I was gonna make a crack!ficlet of Foxma for this episode but it immediately spiraled into some character-analysis meets hurt/comfort monster that I now present to anyone who might choose to read this. I don't know what happened. I really don't. Also, I've been putting off homework to finish this, so I'm not editing. Also, the beginning is a little rushed because I don't like rewriting canon scenes in detail. Oh well. 
> 
> Anyways, for anyone interested enough, here you go:

Eureka! Blackgate inmate #1215’s folder was his at last. It had taken him so long to find; the new archivist’s organization system made even _less_ sense than Kri –

 

No, he was on a mission. No use in going down that dark, dusty alleyway in his mind. He pulled the folder up and out of the drawer, going to slide it shut only to have the folder snatched from his fingertips. He spun on the spot, coming face to face with none other than Lucius Fox, who immediately held up a hand, pushing Edward back but not holding him there.

 

Edward smiled. He loved seeing a familiar face, after all. He loved telling a riddle and getting an answer for once. And when he got to the heart of what Lucius wanted, what he’d have to do to get that folder back, he loved it even more.

 

Foxy wanted his _expertise_. He couldn’t help but stand straighter, fighting back an eager smile. He had to have _some_ dignity after all. Still, he could admit that hearing a kind word, even if part of a manipulation, was refreshing like a cold drink on a hot day. It had been so long since he had felt valued, but Lucius always knew just what to say. The man was a miracle-worker, frankly, and he was _wasted_ on the morons that were the GCPD.

 

The journey back to Haven was somewhere between awkward and amiable. At first, Lucius had been silent, but Edward was persistent.

 

“How’s it going?”

 

“I would ask if there are any new brains of note among your ranks, but I think the fact that I’m your only consultant kind of gives that away…”

 

“Love the tie. Snazzy.”

 

“Ed, people are _dead_ ,” Lucius said gently, “I know you don’t particularly care about the lives of others, and I know you may be uncomfortable working one on one with me – I can’t say I don’t understand – but _please_. Show a little respect?”

 

Edward didn’t understand how he did it. He felt… ashamed. Ashamed, but not judged. Like he had another chance to try again and it actually meant something. He glanced over at the other man, thinking that perhaps Lucius Fox was the greatest riddle Gotham had to offer. After everything Edward had put him through – from the games in Arkham to his pursuit of a rival – he still managed to be calm and – and – and _respectful_. Edward knew a lot about making people mad at him. In fact, that seemed to be the totality of his social experience. He was smart, people used him, and then they would be nice until he got a little too annoying, a little too clingy, a little too dangerous, and then they changed. They used his insecurities against him, they yelled and spat and tore him down. They lied and manipulated and blamed. They hated him, then they left. That was all he knew.

 

His parents.

 

His schoolmates.

 

His teachers.

 

His employers.

 

His coworkers.

 

Jim.

 

Kristen.

 

Oswald.

 

Lee.

 

But not Lucius. Sure, Edward knew he didn’t really _like_ him. But despite that, despite the way he sometimes seemed afraid of Edward, or disgusted with his behavior, he never _never_ treated him with anything less than dignity and respect. He didn’t try to humiliate him. Didn’t want to break him down and watch him crumble.

 

He was just… nice.

 

It didn’t make sense. Some might have said that Lucius didn’t fit in Gotham, but Edward had no such objectivity. To him, Lucius didn’t fit in his life.

 

And for some reason. For some _stupid_ reason, that made him want to change.

 

Because Lucius was too good for someone like him. Edward deserved the things he got, and he didn’t think about the fact that maybe, just maybe, he acted the way he did to ensure he deserved them. Because all of it would happen anyways, and it was so much worse when he didn’t even deserve it. At least, if he was a terrible person, he could pretend that this was the root of all his problems, rather than some fundamental flaw in his very being.

 

But Lucius broke through his internal lies, reached down deep into his insecurities, into his most vulnerable self, and – instead of crushing such a fragile thing – extended a helping hand. Gave Edward sweet dreams of redemption. Rekindled the hope that he’d once held that if he just _tried_ , someday people would love and acknowledge the one part of himself he took pride in.

 

“I – I know I don’t treat the lives of common people like they matter,” he admitted to Lucius after the reprimand, “And for the most part, I suppose I don’t think they do. But… I’ve been having so much trouble lately. First, having to try and regain my intelligence,” he bit his lip, not wanting to think about that time, “Well, anyways, now this. I’ve been sleepwalking. I think it may be Ed.”

 

“I… thought you were Ed?”

 

“And I thought you were smart,” he snapped, immediately regretting it when Lucius raised a challenging eyebrow at him, “I – I’m sorry. I just mean… I’m the _Riddler_. So… whoever’s moving my body around is probably Ed, right?”

 

“Not necessarily,” Lucius shook his head, “From what I understand, you and Ed have been the same person on many occasions.”

 

“Those occasions tend to be when we’re feeling secure,” he laughed bitterly, “I’ve never felt less secure in my life. You know, I think I might have slaughtered a gang a few weeks ago? I don’t even know if I did it or not.”

 

Lucius raised his other eyebrow, eyes shining with concern, “Would you like some help?”

 

“No! Maybe. I don’t know,” he sighed, “I hate not knowing. But… who would I ask? I have no one left in Gotham. Heck, I have no one left in the world. Every person I’ve ever trusted has betrayed me. Who would I go to? Who would help me? Who could be bothered?”

 

Lucius hesitated before laying a cautious hand on Edward’s shoulder, “I – I don’t exactly approve of your choice, Ed. You know this. But if you really wanted help. If you wanted to change… don’t be scared to ask me. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now – we all do – but I promise you, if you’re rattled enough to seek out help, I’ll be there for you. It’s what we’re trying to do. All of us. We just want to help people.”

 

Edward scoffed, “I’m sure Jim’s savior complex has _nothing_ to do with it,” but he looked down at his lap, “I think I have to do this myself.”

 

“If you change your mind, let me know,” Lucius said, and Edward could almost believe he meant it.

 

“Now,” Lucius reminded him, “I believe you were saying something about Haven?”

 

“Yes,” Edward nodded, “I don’t value all life the way you do. But… having had all these issues, I… it’s made me think. And I suppose it’s not fair to hold every human to my standards. The people who died in Haven – some of them were children who’d never had the opportunity to learn. Some of them were adults who didn’t get an education because the only way for them to survive didn’t allow for school time. I’ve been acting like the only reason people aren’t smart enough is their own poor choices, but… the more I’ve had my agency stripped from me this past year, the more I’m realizing how blind I was.”

 

“So, what are you saying?”

 

“Many of the people at Haven never chose to waste their potential. And many still had potential. And… the destruction of all that potential? That’s a tragedy. And also… maybe I should target people who are using their ignorance to do actual harm. Or people who had every opportunity to meet their potential but failed. The ignorant elites. It’s not chaos and destruction that I seek. It’s – it’s – I…” he slumped down, mumbling “I just want to live in a society that values the one thing I have to offer it.”

 

“You speak of potential,” Lucius said after a time, “But you waste that amazing brain of yours on petty revenge and crime.”

 

“I tried the good guy route,” Edward huffed, “I was a hard-working member of the GCPD for _years_. The only recognition I got was from people who wanted me to do their work for them.”

 

“You’re angry,” Lucius suggested, continuing when Edward didn’t contradict him, “Hurt. Scared, even. But mostly angry and sad. And confused.”

 

“I am _not_ confused.”

 

“Oh, so you know why no one appreciated you? Why no one liked you? Why no one was your friend?”

  
“I – I.”

 

“Either you know, or you’re confused, Ed.”

 

“I don’t… It’s because it’s me!” he shouted, clapping a hand over his mouth to stop anything else coming out.

 

Lucius looked at him with something that was far too close to pity for Edward’s liking.

 

“This is why I don’t ask for help,” he growled, “Let’s just get to the crime scene.”

 

The rest of the drive was in silence. They arrived on the scene, Edward giving his expert analysis, and together they’d worked out that there was in fact no bomb. Only a rocket, launched from a nearby rooftop that he was now standing on.

 

He had meant what he said to Lucius. He hoped they found who was responsible. He hoped whoever did this was brought to justice. In that moment, he genuinely meant it.

 

Lucius hadn’t betrayed him. Hadn’t tricked him or taunted him. He’d simply thanked him and returned the folder that Edward had so desperately wanted.

 

_I appreciate your help, Ed. Couldn’t have done it without you._

 

The words repeated over and over again in his mind like a loop. The words he’d craved to hear his entire life, finally his. Someone appreciated him. He was needed. He mattered, in a good way no less.

 

He was also grinning like an idiot.

 

The smile, he found, was hard to fight when the warm sincerity of Lucius’ eyes was burned into his memory.

 

Well, hard to fight until he’d realized the folder he had done all this for was useless. Inmate #1215 was dead. And on top of that, some old lady was watching him.

 

Wait.

 

Some old lady had a clear view of the rooftop.

 

The rooftop where the killer had been standing.

 

He put aside his physical qualms and climbed every single dratted stair up to her apartment. Apartment number 1215.

 

It hadn’t taken long for everything to fall into place after that, between her fear of him and the memories that returned after she’d hit him in the head.

 

_He_ had done it. _He_ had killed all those people. _He_ had destroyed Haven.

 

But _why?_

 

In a fit of panic, he killed the woman. He didn’t feel that guilty about it – she’d had money that was clearly ill spent.

 

But _Haven_.

 

He fell to his knees, staring at the hands attached to his body and a body count even his perfect memory could no longer put a number to, because the total number of casualties was unknown.

 

What was he supposed to do now?

 

~            ~            ~

 

“You just let him leave?”

 

“He hadn’t done anything but try to steal a folder of some old Blackgate inmate. Whatever his trouble is right now, it’s not going to be causing us any problems,” Lucius assured Jim and Harvey.

  
“And you’re okay?”

 

“Yes, I,” he cut himself off, staring over Harvey’s shoulder. Harvey turned around, only to nearly fall over as he came face to face with a burly man in a bright green sweater vest and leather pants.

 

“Whomst the fuck…?”

 

“Which one of you is Lucius Fox?” the man growled.

 

“What do you want with him?” Jim asked, stepping in front of Lucius.

 

“I’ve been sent here with a message to be delivered in person to Mr. Fox.”

 

“I am he,” Lucius stepped forward, “What is your message?”

 

“The Riddler would like to inform you that he has considered what you told him and would like to take you up on your offer. However, he does not feel comfortable with Captain Gordon and his other associates, so he invites you to accompany me back to his home for dinner and a chat.”

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Harvey rolled his eyes. Lucius ignored him, addressing the man, “And you are?”

 

“Tank.”

 

“And you know Ed how?”

 

“He tortured me for information regarding the Street Demons, but we’re on good terms now. We need each other.”

 

“Did he force you to come here, or was it of your own volition?”

 

“I wanted to come,” Tank said, “Like I said we need each other right now. Brains and brawn and all that. But his brains aren’t pulling their weight at the moment. Something’s shaken him up _real_ bad, and he kept saying you were the only one who would understand.  So, I came and found you.”

 

“Take me to him.”

 

“Lucius, you can’t be serious!”

 

“Lucius, is this really worth your time?”

 

He looked at his friends, “Trust me. I don’t think Ed means to harm me, but if I can stop him from harming anyone _else_ , I have to do what I can.”

 

“Your funeral,” Harvey shrugged.

 

“I sincerely hope not.”

 

~            ~            ~

 

Tank opened the door to the abandoned mansion, shepherding Lucius inside.

 

“This way,” he nodded down a hallway, taking Lucius up a flight of stairs and into what turned out to be a bedroom. A shaking lump on the bed betrayed the figure curled up beneath the blankets.

 

“Do whatever you can, Fox,” Tank told him before exiting the room.

 

Lucius approached the bed with care.

 

“Ed?”

 

The shaking stopped momentarily before resuming.

 

“Ed, are you alright?”

 

A muffled voice responded from the bedding-covered lump, “I shouldn’t be.”

 

“Ed, did something happen?” he stopped by the bed, slowly reaching out with one hand to touch where he thought Edward’s shoulder ought to be under all the blankets.

 

“Speak to me, Ed, please.”

 

Edward’s face poked out from the blanket cocoon, and Lucius saw that his face was red and streaked with tears.

 

“If I tell you,” Edward spoke softly, “Will you promise not to hate me?”

 

“I won’t hate you, Ed. Even if you’ve done something terrible. I promise.”

 

Edward nodded, “Thank you.”

 

“What happened, Ed?”

 

“I did it,” he breathed.

 

“You did what?” Lucius probed.

 

“It was _me_ ,” Edward said louder, a sob undercutting the last word.

 

“ _What_ was you, Ed?”

 

“I killed them,” he whispered.

  
“Who?”

 

“ _Haven_.”

 

Lucius took a step back, and Edward burst into tears again.

 

“What do you mean, _you_ killed Haven?”

 

“I – I remembered. Where I was when I’d been sleep-walking or whatever. I remembered standing on that roof, firing the rocket myself. I just… I don’t know _why!_ Why would I do something like that?”

 

Cautiously, Lucius sat on the edge of the bed, returning his hand to Edward’s shoulder.

 

“Do you think it’s another version of yourself?”

 

Edward shook his head, “That’s not what I’m about. Just because I _have_ killed people doesn’t mean I just want to go around blowing up the poor. That’s not my thing.”

 

“I know,” Lucius nodded, “So… what? You think you’re being controlled?”

 

Edward nodded, “I don’t know by whom, or what for, though,” he bit his lip, “Lucius, what if I do it again?”

 

“Do what?” Lucius needed him to be specific if there was to be anything he could do for Edward.

 

“Kill a bunch of people for no reason. I don’t know what I do when I’m asleep. I’m okay with being a criminal, but I prefer certain crimes to others. Indiscriminate murder is not something I’m interested in being known for, but what can I even do?”

 

He buried his face in his hands as his body was wracked with a violent shaking, “I’m scared, Lucius. I’m scared and confused and angry and sad and all those things you accused me of being and _I don’t know what to do_.”

 

Even as much as his logic told him Edward was not to be trusted, Lucius’ instinct told him otherwise. He could imagine the kind of guilt Edward must be feeling. What he might feel if he had discovered that some unknown force had made him kill countless innocents.

 

“I’m glad you asked for help,” he started, “I’m proud of you. It can’t be easy to reach out when you have a history of being pushed away.”

 

“Does it even matter though?” Edward despaired.

 

“Yes,” Lucius said firmly, “Yes. You have allies now. People who are willing to help you. Whoever’s controlling you probably banked on your isolation. The people who are easiest to manipulate are those without a support network.”

 

“You really think so?”

 

“I’m sure they’ll have other plans, but you don’t have to face this alone. If you’re willing to change,” Lucius added, “I won’t help you kill and terrorize.”

 

“What if I say no?” Edward asked.

 

“That’s your decision. I’ll still help stop whoever it is that made you kill all those people, but I’m giving you a chance to do this right.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, the simplest solution would be to bring you back to the GCPD. Put you under lock and key and constant surveillance,” he felt Edward tense beneath his hand, trying to back away but having little luck as trapped as he was, “But I don’t want to do that to you. I don’t think it would be good for _you_ as a person.”

 

“So… what?”

 

“So, if you refuse to stop your needless violence, I’ll have to do so. It would be the safest option for everyone. But if you’re willing to work with me, I’ll find another way. One that can help improve your situation.”

 

Edward was silent for a while, presumably mulling over Lucius’ offer.

 

“Why do you care?”

 

Lucius sighed, “I don’t know. I shouldn’t.”

 

Edward swallowed, “Exactly. You shouldn’t. You should just lock me up like I know you want to. Like everyone wants to.”

 

“No, Ed. I care because… because I believe you could. Care, that is. I care because I’ve seen parts of you you try to hide. I care because I believe you when you say you aren’t seeking mindless violence. I think, perhaps, you hurt people so that they can’t hurt you first. And maybe, if I care, I can change that. I don’t wish harm on you or anyone else.”

 

“Why not?” Edward asked, voice small.

 

Lucius didn’t know how to answer that, so instead he extracted Edward from the bedding and pulled him up into a hug.

 

“I just don’t,” he said, holding Edward, who had frozen against him, like he wasn’t sure what to do.

 

~            ~            ~

 

“How is he?”

 

Lucius turned from where he’d been boiling water in the kitchen at the mansion they were camped out in. He’d found an old box of tea and figured it would do them all some good.

 

In the doorway of the kitchen stood Tank, still wearing that oxymoronic outfit and looking more worried than he ought to be given what Lucius knew about him.

 

“You said he tortured you,” Lucius commented instead of answering, “How did that end up with you working together?”

 

“Like I said,” Tank shrugged, swinging himself onto one of the stools by the island counter, “We need each other. My gang’s dead. I’m not exactly the smartest guy around. Ed, he’s – he’s losing it, but he’s brilliant. He’s also weak as shit. We make a good team.”

 

“You seem awfully calm, though. Don’t you resent what he did to you?”

 

“Nah, I don’t have time for resentment,” he answered honestly.

 

“You seem very well adjusted for a member of a street gang.”

 

“I meditate.”

 

Lucius raised his eyebrows, saying nothing until the tea was steeping, “Still. You seem… attached.”

 

Tank glanced away for a split second, confirming Lucius’ suspicion.

 

“Alright, so maybe I am,” he muttered, “What of it?”

 

“Nothing,” Lucius shook his head, “I’d just like a better understanding of the situation. I’ve offered to help him, and right now, you’re the biggest outside factor in his life. I’d like to know what exactly that factor is.”

 

“Not a lot to understand,” Tank responded gruffly, “He likes muscular men, I’m not going to turn down a cute guy who’s eager.”

 

“I see,” Lucius nodded, handing him one of the three mugs of tea, “And that’s it? No emotions involved?”

 

Tank tensed briefly, “Not in a way that matters.”

 

“Every way matters,” Lucius told him.

 

“Let’s just say I haven’t been this close to someone in a while,” he told his tea, “So maybe I’m a little sweet on him. It’s not like we’re going anywhere. He needs more than just a good fuck. He needs someone that can engage with him on his level. And even if he found that, he knows fuck-all about what he actually _wants_.”

 

Silence fell, except for the faint ticking of a clock that couldn’t keep time anymore but still kept ticking.

 

“He’s better,” Lucius eventually said.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You asked how he was. He’s, well, he’s _getting_ better. And I’m going to help him with that. But I think you should be a part of this as well. What he needs right now are people who will look out for his well-being, and from what you’ve just told me, you’re the perfect man for the job. Will you help?”

 

“Of course,” Tank set his shoulders like he was getting ready to physically fight Edward’s problems, “Can I – can I ask what happened? I mean, he’s been off for as long as I’ve known him about this whole sleepwalking thing, but after he returned yesterday, he just shut himself up in bed and kept mumbling about how it was ‘his fault’.”

 

“Did you hear about Haven?” Lucius asked.

 

“The safe place Gordon was building?”

 

“Yes,” Lucius nodded, “When Ed was asleep, someone took control of him and used him to blow it up.”

 

Tank dropped the mug of tea, ceramic pieces scattering across the tile.

 

“Please pick that up,” Lucius sighed, “I’m going to bring him some tea and something to eat. Join us when you’re done.”

 

Tank looked like he wanted to argue, but he closed his mouth and set about doing as he was told.

 

~            ~            ~

 

“So how do I sleep without hurting anyone?” Edward asked eventually. The three of them were sitting in the library, because it was the room Edward felt most comfortable in.

 

“You said you’d tried things before. Like what?”

 

“I strapped myself to my bed and padlocked it,” he confessed, “But it didn’t work!”

 

“Did you consider that it didn’t work because you had the key?” Lucius asked, “How would you get out if one of us had it instead?”

 

“Oh.”

 

“So, what if we took the key, and took turns keeping watch over you?” Lucius asked.

 

“No,” Tank spoke up. He wasn’t smart, sure, but he’d been close enough to Vasquez to see firsthand how people in charge tended to think, “I don’t think that’s the best option.”

 

“What do you mean?” Lucius turned to him. Edward’s eyes widened with realization, “Because it’ll work.”

 

“That’s a good thing,” Lucius reminded him.

 

“For me,” Edward nodded, “But if they realize they don’t control me anymore, they’ll just find someone new. And we won’t have a chance of stopping them.”

 

“Ah,” Lucius nodded, “So you’re willing to risk yourself to save others?”

 

“Well, that and revenge,” Edward mumbled.

 

“Of course.”

 

Tank watched the way Edward leaned into Lucius as they sat beside each other on the couch across from him. He took a deep breath, remembering his meditation techniques, as he removed himself from the emotions that caused.

 

“Here’s a thought,” Tank said once he’d detached from the situation, “You sleep in a room with one exit. Mr. Fox here and I will keep watch over that exit, from concealed locations that we won’t disclose to you. We will follow you wherever you go, and if you’re about to do something the real you would regret, we’ll stop you.”

 

Edward bit his lip and nodded, “And if you can’t?”

 

“We will,” Tank said, as Lucius answered, “It won’t be your fault.”

 

Tank glanced at him before nodding. Edward bit that pretty lip of his, turning over his options in his mind. As he had been feeling more often than not lately, Tank wished he could see inside his mind, untangle those barriers, and pull each insecurity out by force if necessary. He wished he could hold Edward and tell him things would be okay and for that to mean anything at all.

 

“Alright,” Edward agreed, “I want to find out who’s doing this. And _how_. I just want this to be over, whatever it takes.”

 

Lucius put a hand on Edward’s back, “You’re making a tough decision, but I think it’s the right one. You’re doing something good, Ed.”

 

Edward swallowed, “I mean, not really. I’m doing it for myself. I don’t want to be controlled, I don’t want to randomly hurt and kill people. I’m just being selfish, really.”

 

“If you were selfish, you’d have taken the first option,” Lucius contested, “You chose to put yourself at risk to save people. Whatever motives you think you have, you’ve decided to help people. That’s _good_.”

 

“It can’t be that simple,” Edward shook his head.

 

“Why not?”

 

Edward said nothing, and the three of them sat in silence. Tank waited quietly to see what would happen next. He agreed with Lucius – there was something deeper at play in Edward’s mind making him resist the praise. Tank knew firsthand that Edward loved praise, so his avid rejection of it now likely had roots in something far darker than mere humility.

 

“It never was before,” Edward finally said, “I used to try so much harder to be good, and it was never enough. There was always some reason it wasn’t. So, something as simple as this can’t possibly be good. Can it?”

 

Lucius took a sharp breath, and Tank watched the discomfort and pity mingling in his posture and expression. That was fine. This was his territory. Those thoughts were as familiar to Tank as his own name, and he’d done years of soul-searching to get to where he was now.

 

“In my experience,” he spoke slowly, carefully, considering each word before letting it be said, “In my experience, that has more to do with the judge than the action.”

 

Edward looked at him, brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, different people have different standards. And also, different people want different things. Before I joined the Street Demons, I worked in a gas station. If I chatted with customers a bit, acted all friendly, I was congratulated on doing a good job. If I’d done the same with the Street Demons, they’d’ve thrashed me for insubordination. There I was good if I did what I was told and shut the fuck up.

But then, there’s others that don’t _want_ you to succeed, y’know? I remember, back when I was just a kid, the principal at the run-down joke they called a school used to hit me round the head for making the school look bad. At first he said it was cause I was a bad student. Didn’t deserve to go there, like they were anything special. So I tried being a good student. Studied hard and all that. Didn’t matter to him. Started saying it was cause I didn’t care about looking professional, just cause my shoes had holes and my sleeves were starting to fray. I told him we didn’t have the money to fix ‘em. He said if I cared I’d make the money myself. It didn’t matter if I had, though. He’d’ve found something new to hate me for. You can’t listen to people like that. They’ve got shit, probably, but it doesn’t matter. They’re dicks for taking it out on whoever’s closest. Only one way to react to them.”

 

“How”

 

“Fuck ‘em up in whatever way hurts most. Me and Mr. Prisk? I became the bane of his existence until I was old enough to drop the fuck out. See, the beauty of a boarding school is the faculty lives with the students. I traded my buddy Keith some shrooms for a couple of live rats my last year there and snuck ‘em into his quarters. Best part was, they got into his contraband liquor and got him suspended. Lucky bastard was rich enough to keep his job, but it was pretty satisfying, watching the cops turn up ‘cause he said he was getting burgled only to watch ‘em pull out four drunk, fat rats that were tearing his shit to shreds.”

 

Lucius cleared his throat, “What point are you trying to make, exactly?”

 

“People told you you weren’t good enough, right?” Tank asked, “Well sometimes that’s because good is contextual. But sometimes people are just dicks, and you gotta find a way to move past it ‘cause it wasn’t your fault and the chances that they’ll apologize are slim so you gotta make your own peace with it. However you have to. So whatever high bar you think exists for doing good out there, fuck it. You’re doing good right now if we damn well say you are.”

 

“I wouldn’t have put it quite like that,” Lucius nodded, “But I suppose that is the gist of it.”

 

Edward was looking at Tank now, and _fuck_ did he have it bad for those soft brown eyes and devastatingly sharp cheekbones. His fingers played with something in his lap, some sort of coin, and he spoke softly, “How? How do you move past something like that?”

 

Tank sighed, “Hard to say. Not everything works for everyone, after all. For me, I sat myself down and thought about whether it was more my fault or his, and I decided it was his. Decided he wasn’t worth my time. Hasn’t really bothered me since, other than the occasional lonely, dark night. But that might not work for you. Maybe you’ve gotta find someone who does give a damn, or maybe you’ve gotta confront them, or any number of things. But whatever you do, don’t let them have any power over you. Fight that shit all the way, no matter how much you might want to let them.”

 

“You said I could, could find someone who cares. But isn’t that a sign of weakness?”

 

“Caring?” Lucius asked. Edward shook his head, “Well, I mean maybe, but I mean… you got over it on your own…”

 

Tank got up, kneeling in front of Edward and clasping his hands in his. He could feel the metal of the small coin digging into his palm, but he barely noticed.

 

“Eddie, don’t go there,” he said firmly, “That’s a dark alley with no end, and the farther you go, the longer it’ll take you to get back. Understand? I may have gotten over it myself, but I wasn’t on my own. I had friends. I had Keith, who hid a cat in our dorms and let us play with her on rainy days, and Sidney, who used to say he could only do two things right: deck bastards and bake pies, and Axel, who sang like an angel and had the sweetest grandmother who used to send us all sweets and socks when winter rolled around, and a boy named Will, who used to get pushed around until we let him in to our little circle on the condition that he help us pass our classes, and dear old Mr. Hart the custodian, who told us wild stories about serving in the last world war and who liked to play poker with us in the old bunker under the school and who taught us the way they used to dance back then one winter break when all of us had to stay over. I had all of them to contradict Mr. Prisk when he told me I was a nobody destined for nothing but trash. Have you ever had anyone to contradict the people telling you you’re not good enough?”

 

Edward shook his head, and those gorgeous eyes of his shone with restrained tears. It broke Tank’s heart, and he held on all the tighter, “Well you do now.”

 

Lucius nodded at Edward’s side, hand rubbing a soothing pattern up and down his back, “Exactly. It doesn’t make you weak, the fact that you haven’t been able to deal with everything alone. Who could?”

 

“How,” Edward began, “How do I know which parts of me are wrong and which parts are okay? My whole life I’ve been told I was messed up, broken. If you’re right, and some of that wasn’t true, then how do I know what isn’t?”

 

Lucius sighed, “You’ve always been different, haven’t you?”

  
Edward nodded.

 

“So between whatever trauma and abuse you suffered for being different, and all the built up rage at being mistreated that altered your judgement, you’re trying to find the differences that are actually just fine. I’m not going to lie to you, Ed, it’ll be a tough process. You clearly have a lot of problems, but they seem to stem from a defensiveness rather than inherent cruelty. That’s good.”

 

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted. To be good. To be appreciated. To be acknowledged for what I _can_ do, not what I _can’t_ ,” Edward’s voice began to shake as the tears started to fall, one after another, streaking down his face.

 

“If this weren’t Gotham and if we weren’t trapped on an island right now, I would suggest seeking out a professional to help you work through your trauma. Someone with the expertise to be able to separate which parts of you are naturally different and which parts were born of fear and anger,” Lucius told him, “As it is, I suppose we’ll have to do our best. But as long as it takes for you to believe it, I will keep reminding you that what you’re doing is good.”

 

Edward nodded, pulling one hand out of Tank’s to wipe his sleeve across his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and while it wasn’t visible, Tank could feel his hand tremble in his grasp.

 

Lucius stood slowly, “I should head back to the GCPD for a bit. Make sure they don’t come barging in here thinking you’ve kidnapped me or something. Besides, they might have something we can use to catch whoever’s behind this. I’ll check back in in three hours. Will that be doable?”

 

“Yeah,” Edward answered, “and thank you.”

 

“I’m more than happy to do this for you, Ed,” Lucius said, “Take care of yourself. Tank, make sure that he does.”

 

Tank nodded. A part of him ached with jealousy at the close connection Lucius had to Edward, the way he matched his intellect so closely while being grounded in just the way Edward needed. But another part of him was glad that there was someone like that out there, and that said person actually wanted to look out for Edward. His meditation techniques paid off in moments like these, when he was able to allow the latter to overpower the former. His feelings didn’t matter here. They were probably just the result of mixing loneliness with attraction, after all. What mattered was Edward.

 

He stood up when Lucius had gone, and to his surprise, Edward followed. The mystery was solved seconds later when Edward talked through his tears, “I – I am given in joy or in pain, I am warmth, I am comfort, I su – support yet constrain. What am I?”

 

Tank shook his head, “You know I’m shit at these.”

 

“An embrace,” Edward told him, all but falling into his arms. Tank caught him, held him close as he shook with whatever cocktail of emotions he was feeling. He didn’t know how long they stood there before Edward’s trembling stopped, but he kept himself wrapped around the sturdier man. Tank was just about to ask him if he wanted a bite to eat or something when Edward pressed his mouth against his. Tank closed his eyes and drew him in tight, kissing back hard before growing gentle. Eventually he pushed Edward away just enough to get him to step back and look at him.

 

“What?”

 

“Are you sure this is the time for that, gorgeous? You’ve been through a lot tonight, are you sure you’re in the right mindset?”

 

Edward huffed, “I’m fine. Well, not – I mean, yeah. Alright. I’ve been through a lot of emotions today. I just, I just want to feel good and not worry about it for a little bit. Is that okay with you?”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

He nodded, “Yeah. I mean, I get if you’re not interested, but you were earlier, and that _did_ feel good, and I’d like to feel like that right now instead of all this,” he gestured up and down at himself, “Besides, we’ve got to do something for three hours, and I’m not allowed to fall asleep.”

 

Tank couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, “You sure are something else, doll. But fine. If you’re sure, lead the way.”

 

The soft, shining smile he got in return was more than enough encouragement.

 

~            ~            ~

 

“You’re amazing,” Edward mumbled from where he was curled up in Tank’s arms. He sighed as Tank ran his fingers through his hair.

 

“You’re damn good, yourself, sweetheart,” Tank told him, stroking over his scalp, “You sure I didn’t hurt you at all?”

 

“No, it was fine.”

 

“Fine that I hurt you or fine because I didn’t?”

 

“Fine because you only did in ways I like,” Edward answered quietly, a blush spreading over cheeks that had only just begun to lose their flushed color. Tank kissed him on the forehead, “Alright.”

 

“Why do you ask so much?” Edward asked, “If I’m okay and all?”

 

Tank looked down at him, considering how to respond. He didn’t want Edward to feel obligated if he expressed his true feelings, so instead he went with a half-truth, “I suppose I have a type.”

 

“Weak guys?”

 

“Nah, more like guys who are trying to find themselves but who feel just a little less lost when things get a bit rough. I suppose I like feeling like I have somebody to protect. Gives me a purpose.”

 

“Oh,” was all Edward said. And then, “Well that didn’t work. We’re right back at the emotions. I don’t suppose you’d be up for a shower?”

 

“Ed…” Tank sighed, “Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll get you some water and maybe a snack. You’ve barely had a bite to eat all day, and I think what we just did qualifies as exercise.”

 

“No!” Edward snapped, “I – Please don’t leave me alone. I don’t want to be alone. We don’t have to do anything, just… don’t go.”

 

Tank agreed, on the condition that they eat afterwards.

 

By the time Lucius arrived, Edward was in a better state than he’d been all day. Tank wished he could take the credit, but he knew the benefits of feeling clean and eating well firsthand. Well, as well as one could eat in the current situation.

 

“We’ll be there, Ed,” he said as they sat at Edward’s bedside. They’d promised him to stay until he fell asleep, and then they’d move somewhere hidden and secure, to wait and see.

 

It was agreed that Tank would wait nearby the room, having a better grasp on the layout of the house after having lived there for some time. Lucius would wait near the front door, in a car he’d taken from the GCPD. He’d gotten a couple of trackers from the station as well. Jim hadn’t minded – after all, they weren’t exactly tracking a lot of people these days, and he’d mentioned that he was following a lead on the Haven case. One was currently in Edward’s car, and another was in his shoes. Hopefully whoever was controlling him wouldn’t notice, and they’d be able to track him wherever he went.

 

Waiting in silence was both intense and dull. He was on edge, yet nothing was happening. Seconds ticked into minutes which ticked into an hour. Then another. Then –

 

“He’s on the move,” Tank whispered over the walkie-talkie, “Walking kinda stiff, just like when he first met me. He’s headed for the study.”

 

Lucius sat up, waiting for further information, all the while keeping an eye on the front door.

 

“There was a safe behind the painting in the corner. He knows the code.”

 

“What was in it?”

 

“His suit.”

 

Lucius breathed in sharply. So, whoever was controlling him wanted him to look the part of the Riddler. That had to mean something.

 

They wanted the Riddler.

 

They had framed Penguin.

 

They’d had their Riddler puppet blow up Haven while the Penguin was there.

 

Was this coincidence? Or was there a connection?

 

He didn’t have time to ponder further, as the front door swung open, and out walked the Riddler, steps wooden and gloved hands clasping a gun. Lucius frowned, before realizing he’d never seen Edward hold a gun properly and without shaking. So, either his controller didn’t know Edward that well, or they simply didn’t care about the details.

 

“He’s getting in the car,” Lucius said quietly. Tank acknowledged and emerged from the house a minute later, slipping into the passenger seat. Lucius handed him the screen showing where Edward and his car were, “You’re navigating.”

 

They tracked him to the edge of the Siren’s territory, where he exited the car and entered a ramshackle apartment building. Lucius looked at Tank, who nodded at the door, “Stay with the car. I’m going in.”

 

“You sure you don’t need me with you?”

 

Tank shook his head, “You don’t look like action is you’re thing.”

 

“You would be correct,” Lucius nodded.

 

“Besides, we might need to make a quick getaway. Be ready to move.”

 

“I can do that.”

 

Tank left his door cracked, not wanting a sound to give him away, and crept into the apartment after Edward. It was easier than he’d expected, finding him. Whoever was here clearly expected to be alone, and he could clearly hear a woman’s voice shouting, “to kill! And _she_ didn’t do it either, damn her!”

 

“It’s only a matter of time,” another, calmer woman spoke, “The people will realize what he’s doing soon enough. They’ll turn on him in a heartbeat.”

 

“So you say,” the shriller one scoffed, “And yet all the reports I’ve heard are that he’s being hailed as a hero. You. Tag the scene next time. If he realizes it’s you, it’ll throw him off, at least, from what I’ve been told.”

 

Tank crept closer and closer to the room, finally coming within visual range of the door. He stayed as far to the side as he could while watching. Edward, clad in his old Riddler suit was perfectly still. He was kneeling, but he was also leaning against the ground. As if he had been struck while kneeling and hadn’t bothered to get back up. It made Tank’s blood boil, but he calmed himself down and studied the room’s other occupants.

 

To his surprise, one was an elegant looking middle-aged woman, and the other was a girl who couldn’t have been more than seventeen. The woman stood slightly to the side, watching with some detachment, while the girl’s face was twisted up in fury.

 

From his position on the floor, Edward nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

 

She growled in frustration, “He needs to pay! Penguin _must_ pay for what he’s done. And if I’m the only one willing to do it, then damn it, I will!”

 

“You’re not the only one,” the woman spoke, for once with a little steel in her voice, “The pig has been taking a city that was already a garbage heap and all but enslaved it. He’s a dictator, and dictators need to be taken down.”

 

“I know,” the girl sighed, “I’m glad you were willing to help. With Barbara doing god knows what, I’m not sure I could’ve pulled this off alone.”

 

“It was my pleasure,” the woman said, “After all, you provided me the in I needed,” she gestured at Edward, “ _I_ would have never gotten access to him without you.”

 

Tank had heard enough. Whoever these women were had a plot against the Penguin that relied on manipulating Edward, and he doubted they cared whether he came out of it alive or not. After all, they’d sacrificed countless in Haven just for a shot at the man.

 

More importantly, he was pretty sure he could take them.

 

A part of him wanted to use his trusty pistol, but he knew he should stick with the plan. Lucius had provided him with tranquilizer darts, and he was supposed to take them out and bring them back to the precinct to face whatever justice was left to be found in Gotham. He didn’t particularly like it, but it was the best way to ensure there were no loose ends.

 

Despite the girl’s erratic demeanor, Tank had a gut feeling the woman was the more dangerous of the pair, and he always trusted his gut. It was half the reason why he’d decided not to kill Edward the first time he’d turned his back on him.

 

The woman dropped like a bag of rocks, and immediately Edward stirred. The girl looked around wildly, an iridescent knife already in her hands, but Tank was too fast. She fell beside her co-conspirator, just as Edward blinked himself back into consciousness.

 

“Eddie?” Tank asked, “That you?”

 

Edward looked around until he met his eyes, a sort of wild fear in them, “Yes,” he swallowed, “Where am I?”

 

“Sirens,” Tank told him, “These seem to be the two behind it all.”

 

Edward peered at them, frowning.

 

“I think the woman was the one controlling you. You started moving the second she dropped.”

 

“Wait, I know these people,” Edward’s frown deepened, “That’s – that’s the mayor’s niece.”

 

“Oswald has a niece?”

 

Edward shook his head, “Not Oswald. Galavan. And that,” he crouched down next to the woman, “That’s the lady from…”

 

He looked down at his hand, eyes widening in horror, and he dropped something, taking three quick steps back. Tank approached cautiously, looking at the seemingly benign thing lying on the ground.

 

“It’s. It’s a penny, Ed.”

 

“Yeah,” Edward gulped, “An 1830 Liberty penny, I’ll bet anything.”

 

Tank bent down to pick it up, a chill going down his spine when he realized Edward was correct, “How did you know that?”

 

“She,” he gestured at the woman, “We arrested her. Back when I worked for the GCPD. She used to – used to sew them into the heads of her victims. Well, she hypnotized people into doing it for her.”

 

“What the fuck?” Tank dropped the penny like it had burned him.

 

“I don’t remember where I got it,” Edward said shakily.

 

“You were playing with it earlier,” Tank recalled, “Maybe it had something to do with how she was controlling you.”

 

“Yeah…” Edward looked at it, “Can you please put it in a bag and take it with us? I don’t want to touch it again.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Tank lifted the hypnotist woman, making sure not to break her neck but not being particularly cautious with her either. Edward, bless him, tried to take the girl.

 

“I – I can’t,” he finally admitted, “Not unless I drag her.”

 

“It’ll be fine. I’ll come back for her,” Tank told him.

 

Eventually they were all set. Edward was moved to the passenger seat, where Tank could keep an eye on both him and their prisoners. Said prisoners were handcuffed, and Tank had taped their mouths as an extra precaution. The drive to the precinct was tense, a nervous energy in the air.

 

Once they’d arrived, Tank and Lucius carried the prisoners inside, Edward trailing awkwardly behind. As soon as they saw him, the police had their weapons drawn. Edward raised his hands, wanting to posture and sneer but not having the heart to after the events of the past few days.

 

“We caught them,” Lucius explained before Jim could even ask.

 

“ _They_ were behind Haven?” Harvey asked, “Wait a minute, isn’t that - ?”

 

“Silver St. Cloud,” Jim nodded.

 

“Not her. That’s that therapist bitch who tried to kill me.”

 

“What happened?” Jim asked.

 

“When I met Ed earlier, he told me that he believed he was being controlled every time he fell asleep. He was scared that he was being made to hurt people.”

 

“Ha, like the freak wouldn’t enjoy that,” Harvey scoffed.

 

“Don’t,” Lucius warned, “Anyways, his associate here and I came up with a plan to track and follow him tonight. He led us to Sirens’ territory, right to these two.”

 

“I followed them in,” Tank spoke up, “Overheard what was going on. Ed was sitting there like a lump, only moved when he was addressed. They were going on about making Penguin pay and dictators and something about ‘Barbara’. Said they were gonna use him to do it,” he nodded at Edward.

 

“Thank you,” Jim said, “We’ll get on this.”

 

“Are we free to go?” Tank asked. Jim shrugged, “I guess. You’ve given your statement. Nygma?”

 

“I’ve been sleepwalking, or something,” he said, “Yesterday, I had flashbacks in which I saw myself getting ready to destroy Haven. It was like I couldn’t control my own body. I didn’t want to. That’s not how I operate. But it didn’t matter. I had orders, and there was nothing I could do to break them. I asked Lucius to help me make sure it could never happen again, I fell asleep, and then I woke up in some abandoned apartment after Tank tranquilized them.”

 

“Fine. You can go,” Jim waved them off.

 

“Seriously?” Harvey asked.

 

“They’re not important to us, and I trust Lucius to have this under control,” Jim said.

 

Lucius turned to them, “I’ll stay here. Tank, get him to sleep and make sure he stays where he’s supposed to. I’ll be over in a day or two to catch you up on the situation.”

 

“Thank you,” Tank told him, and he genuinely meant it. Edward nodded, and then on impulse gave Lucius a hug.

 

“Be good to yourself, Ed,” Lucius told him as he hugged back.

 

They made it home without any issue, and Tank was more than happy to fulfill Edward’s request of cuddling. He held the man as he slept, and Tank marveled at how peaceful he looked when he was plagued by grief and torment.

 

The night passed, and Edward woke up precisely where he had fallen asleep – in Tank’s arms. Tank stirred at the motion of Edward shifting, placing a light kiss on Edward’s temple.

 

“I think it worked!” Edward sounded so excited. Tank was glad, even as the worry set in that Edward wouldn’t need him anymore, not now that he was fully in control again.

 

“Let me make us breakfast,” he said eagerly, “I haven’t been in the mood for breakfast in ages.”

 

Tank allowed himself to indulge in a smile, “Sure, sweetheart. I love breakfast. And I love a man who can cook.”

 

Edward grinned at him, “Then you must really love me.”

 

Immediately the playful mood vanished, Edward realizing a second too late what he’d said. He opened his mouth, to say what, Tank didn’t know.

 

“I suppose so, huh,” he said before Edward could. He tried to make it light-hearted. Something Edward could shrug off. Instead, Edward was looking at him like he was a puzzle he hadn’t even thought to solve. Eventually, though, he cleared his throat, “So, uhh, breakfast. I’ll get on that.”

 

He hurried downstairs, leaving Tank to get ready alone. Even though he wasn’t surprised, it hurt. But, he supposed, he’d get over it in time.

 

He donned his old leather vest, instead of the green one Edward had let him borrow over the past few days. If he had to leave, it would be easier if he weren’t wearing one of Edward’s possessions.

 

Edward smiled when he saw him, but the smile wavered a little. He handed him a plate of eggs with something green speckled in them and a glass of apple juice.

 

“It’s all I had, but I hope it’s good.”

 

“Smells delicious,” Tank told him, all but moaning at the first bite, “Damn, that’s the best fucking food I’ve had since the bridges blew.”

 

Edward glowed with the praise, Tank was glad to see.

 

“Foxy said he’d be here for dinner, with news of Dr. Marks and Silver,” Edward informed him, “Hopefully that will be even better.”

 

“If you make it, I’m sure it will be,” he said, just to see Edward blush.

 

It worked.

 

~            ~            ~

 

“So the whole thing was just revenge for Tabitha?” Edward asked. Lucius nodded, “On Silver’s side, anyways. Dr. Marks’ new target of corruption was Penguin. She wanted to destroy him and redistribute his wealth among the people of Gotham.”

 

“Good thought, terrible execution,” Tank commented.

 

“I suppose I must agree,” Lucius nodded, “Well, if that’s all…”

 

“Wait,” Edward spoke up suddenly. He’d been fidgeting all day, Tank had noticed.

 

“I – I have something to say. To both of you. I’m not sure how you’ll take it, though.”

 

“Go on,” Lucius encouraged, “You can tell me anything.”

 

“And me,” Tank agreed.

 

“I,” he took a deep breath, “I think I like both of you.”

 

“Pardon?” Lucius asked.

 

“I’ve noticed, upon inspection, that I’m rather attracted to both of you. And that there are emotions beyond that attraction,” he spoke slowly, as if unsure what words he should use, “Lucius, I don’t know how you see me. Tank, I know you are also attracted to me, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think you like me beyond that. If you are both intending to stick with me while I try and discover who I am, you – you should know that.”

 

Lucius raised an eyebrow, “I suppose I’ve thought you to be attractive, and even sweet, if you weren’t so homicidal.”

 

“Oh,” Edward said, sounding surprised.

 

“I’m not sure pursuing a true romantic relationship would be beneficial to your quest for self-discovery and improvement, but I would not object to an emotional intimacy. It might be just what you need.”

 

Then they were both looking at Tank.

 

“Goddamn, darling, I don’t know where you’ve been looking if you haven’t been able to see that I like you as more than just a good lay,” he scoffed, “I was afraid of coming on too strong, since I knew I wasn’t enough for you.”

 

“I,” Edward began.

 

“It’s alright,” Tank assured him, “I’m more than happy to share you. Kinda figured I’d get jack-shit once you found someone better suited to you.”

 

“You mean,” Edward stumbled, “You mean you’re _both_ interested?”

 

“You could say so,” Tank nodded, “What do you say, Foxy? I’m cool with sharing if you are.”

 

Lucius couldn’t help but laugh, reaching out to take Edward’s hand, “I suppose it’s settled then. We’ll be there for you, Ed.”

 

“In whatever way you need,” Tank added, clasping his other hand tight.

 

Edward sagged in relief. Finally, he had found people for whom he was good enough. And someday soon, he’d be good enough for himself, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Any thoughts? I kinda doubt this will be as popular as a nygmobblepot fic, but I really didn't want to add _another_ suitor for Edward. That probably would've doubled the length of this thing. So, if you're here, let me know what you thought! (although I suppose I should say, a lot of this was self-indulgent, not meant as a genuine commentary/suggestion for the show lmao)


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